


Tournesol

by meandminniemcg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But balanced out with fluff, Coffee Shops, Demisexual Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, France (Country), Getting Back Together, M/M, Mention of Mental Health Issues, Post hogwarts EWE, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 14:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/pseuds/meandminniemcg
Summary: Harry hates vacations, they give too much chance to think of his losses. But sometimes vacations are a time to be lucky in finding the right coffeeshop...





	Tournesol

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my awesome beta reader spaceaas. 
> 
> I have never been to Grasse, and I don't know if there is a Rue de Tournesol or a coffee shop in a potentially existing Rue de Tournesol. I just thought Grasse must be a very beautiful place, and I headcanon the Delacours being from Grasse because it's famous for perfume. Also, I'm 100% sure Draco would love to be in Grasse with all its flower fields.

Harry didn’t know why on earth he had let Bill and Fleur persuade him to accompany them on their two-weeks vacation in Grasse, instead of Flooing in just for Gabrielle’s wedding. He hated having spare time with nothing to do; it always made him spiral into thoughts about the people he had lost to the war - those who died and those who couldn’t manage to live in wizarding Britain after the war. Some, like Ginny and Luna, visited and fire-called frequently, but others, like his, so far only, male lover, of the two people he ever had sex with, had left without leaving an address. His farewell letter had only contained the words “Forgive me. I love you, but I’ll be dead soon if I stay.” The worst thing had been that Harry knew it was true.

Seven years had passed since then. His friends had tried to play matchmaker, but he had stayed single. Even casual sex had not become part of his life, not for lack of trying, but for the disappointment that it was to him. He had seen a mind healer and found out that nothing was wrong with preferring masturbation and sex toys to casual sex with another person and had used that to shut up his friends’ matchmaking.

But inside he still felt lonely.

“So, Bill, what exactly am I going to do here? I’d love to fly over the lavender fields, but I’m afraid I’ll get lost in my head without Teddy here to keep me grounded. What is there for me to do while you and Fleur help with the wedding preparations?” He nearly cried, and it was only his second day here, his friends and family wouldn’t come to distract him for another five.

“How about walking into town, drinking a coffee somewhere, and reading this book on the history of magical and muggle perfume making?”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

An hour later, he was somewhere in the city center of Grasse and clueless about where to find a nice café, when he saw two men walking by holding hands. They were speaking English, but one with a French accent.

“Excuse me, could you recommend a good café?” He asked.

“Do you have an idea, honey?” The brown-haired American asked his French partner.

“Monsieur, you could go to Chez Jean, but if you want to go to the LGBTQ-friendliest place ‘ere, try the coffee shop on the Rue de Tournesol. The barista is snarky and as ‘ot as the coffee. Before I met Lenny, I ‘ad a big crush on ‘im. But ‘e ‘as the most professional working morals and never flirts back. The Rue de Tournesol is the next street to the left”

“How do you know I’m gay?” Harry asked. He didn’t wear a rainbow pin or anything else recognizable as a sign of being gay.

“You’re ‘Arry Potter, aren’t you? I was one of the Beauxbatons students at the Triwizard Tournament. I saw you then. And you being gay was in the back pages of La Gazette du Sorcier.”

“Thank you for your advice, but please don’t spread the rumor that I’m here. I don’t want uninvited people crashing my friend’s wedding.” He smiled at them.

“You don’t ‘appen to go to Marcel and Gabrielle’s wedding? Marcel is my cousin. I wouldn’t ruin his wedding. My name is Pierre.” The man looked at the clock and made a worried face. Harry realized that he had delayed them.

“Thank you again, and see you at the wedding, Pierre, Lenny.”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Harry walked down the Rue de Tournesol and was a little disappointed when he saw that the coffee shop was rather nondescript and belonged to an American chain. But his weariness won out, however, and he went inside, stopping in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice exclaim “Chai Latte pour Lucienne!”

That was not possible, was it? He ran to the place where the barista had put the chai latte, just as the barista turned around. It was Draco. No doubt about it, he looked a bit older and had filled out, but the blond hair and the face were the same. The barista said “Café cr…” then noticed Harry and dropped the cup. Not paying attention to the spreading coffee stains on his shirt he rushed to Harry but stopped with a frightened look in his eyes. “Harr…Pott…I don’t even know how to address you now. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m still Harry to you, and I understand why you went away. But the ministry has accepted my appeal, saying that if we found you, you could live in Britain with your magic again.”

“Harry, how… how did you find me? Blaise cast a spell that was supposed to make me untraceable with magic. I didn’t want to be attacked by someone like Smith.” He twisted a corner of his apron.

“Don’t worry. Someone just recommended this coffee shop to me. He was right that the barista is exceptionally gorgeous.” He winked, hoping that it would not annoy Draco.

“Monsieur,” a hijabi woman interrupted them. “Mon café crème?”

“Harry, please wait for me.”

“I will.” Harry smiled at him, ordered a frappuccino and sat down at a table with a good view of the bar. He watched Draco and saw that he looked even hotter now than he had before. The Muggle jeans hugged his arse perfectly, and his hair was shaped in a slightly wavy Muggle style. He looked like he used to when coming directly from the shower and before using any hair potion. Harry longed to run his fingers through it, as he used to in those three months of their secret relationship. His desire for Draco had never really faded.

Draco kept looking at him shortly and blushing. After twenty minutes, a woman with many purple braids came in, put on an apron and took Draco’s place.

He still fixed two cups of coffee and came to Harry.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “Are you seeing anyone?” Harry blurted out.

“Same Gryffindork as ever.” Draco grinned. “No. You?”

“My friends tried to set me up with so many people, but nobody compared to you.” They drank their coffee and talked about the time since their last night together.

“Fuck, Harry, I missed you. But we should take it slow. We don’t know each other’s development over the last seven years.” Draco’s voice sounded weak as if he had to force every word out.

Harry nodded, trying to force his body to obey him, while all his senses were focused on Draco. He had been half hard ever since he had first heard Draco today; the blond’s tenor had woken a long-forgotten pavlovian response, it seemed.

They sat there and talked until the coffee shop closed at six o’clock. Harry noticed that Draco laughed more freely now. The stories about his life here didn’t sound as bitter as what he had told Harry in their three months together, but the melancholy was still there.

“I’ll walk you back to where you’re staying, but if it’s in wizarding Grasse, you will have to lead the way, I still wear the magic-absorbing bracelets,” Draco said as they left the coffee shop.

“And if you go to the British embassy with me, the Wizarding Ambassador can remove them. Draco, I tried so hard to reach you and tell you that my appeal on your behalf was successful. And Smith and his cronies were arrested for illegal potions smuggling. They attempted to use you as a scapegoat. McGonagall is looking for a competent potioneer; Slughorn gets senile. She talks a lot about you being the best candidate who has been at Hogwarts in the last 25 years.”

“It’s not quite a good reference for Hogwarts if they need the presence of an Auror so often,” Draco deadpanned.

“Not if the Auror in question is actually an ex-Auror who has been teaching DADA for the last year and a half,” Harry grinned.

Draco pulled Harry into a hug. “You quit the Aurors! I’m so proud of you.”

“Yep, you were right, it wasn’t good for me to focus so much on crime. My trauma can heal better while I’m teaching and trying my best to be a good teacher and a person my students can trust.”

Draco still held Harry tight, then bent down slightly and whispered, “May I kiss you?”

“What happened to ‘let’s take it slow’?” Harry smirked, remembering what Draco had said before.

“Fuck ‘take it slow’! You and I have always been like a magnetic storm. How could it ever change? I just want you so much.”

“Language, Malfoy.” Harry laughed, as Draco playfully swatted him, followed by a kiss.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

“Don’t forget to invite your plus one,” Gabrielle admonished Harry at lunch the next day.

Harry stared at her speechless.

“You’ve never had one-offs before, and especially not with someone you’ve been pining for before you even had your first kiss. I saw him sneak out of your hotel room this morning, and Marie told me you ordered room service for breakfast.” Bill gave him a smug look.

“Did you know that he lives here?” Harry asked, suspecting they had arranged it.

“No, we didn’t, but Marcel teaches Divination at Beauxbatons. He saw that you would find something you needed if you came here now.”


End file.
